Demanding Satisfaction
by Almond
Summary: Morgan catches Garcia with a forbidden photo. This is for all the fics I've read where Garcia is threatened with a spanking, but never receives it. Set during episode 3.20 Lo-Fi. Starts funny and tame, but ends rather raunchy, so beware!
1. Ch 1 Caught RedHanded

Chapter 1 – Caught Red-Handed

Morgan quickly left the Field Office, thoughts running through his head as he drove the New York streets. Once in the hotel lobby, he headed into the bar instead of going up to his room. He was angry, and frustrated, and really wanted to forget about the scene with Hotch and Kate.

He was still sitting at the bar when Rossi found him, looking at the beer in front of him as if it held all the answers he needed – but couldn't bring himself to drink it. He knew going to the bar and getting a beer wasn't the right decision. The case was far from over, and he needed to be clear-headed. Rossi concurred, and then made a suggestion that made Morgan raise an eyebrow.

"Why don't you go check on Garcia, Morgan? She's probably just as disturbed that we weren't able to prevent another death."

"You're right, I can't believe I didn't even think of her…" said Morgan. He stood up quickly, throwing a five on the bar.

"Well, granted, you had other things on your mind. But, you have time to fix that now. While you're there, have her analyze a loop of the last shooting and send it up to us for review." Rossi said.

"Thanks, man. I'll do that." Morgan threw back at him as he jogged off. He needed to get to his Baby Girl, pronto.

* * *

In the surveillance room at the NYPD, Garcia sat with Officer Bartleby. Both women were silent, trying to come to terms with the latest shooting. Garcia was twiddling one of her colorful pens, staring as it spun in her fingers. She could feel Bartleby growing tenser by the minute, as they had not heard anything else from the Field Office. Garcia grabbed one of her dolls and shoved it into Lisa's hands. Lisa snorted, but didn't give it back. She stroked its hair for a moment, then chuckled to herself.

"What?" Garcia asked.

"I appreciate it," Lisa sighed, "but right now I think I'd feel better looking at the super fox again."

It was Garcia's turn to snort.

"You, my chickadee, had but to ask."

Garcia's fingers flew over the keyboard once more, and windows popped open all over the screens. Candid pictures of Agent Morgan appeared everywhere they could see. Both women sighed then, shifting back in their seats to gaze at all the pretty.

After a few moments, Garcia started shaking her head, curls flying. "No, no, this is not going to work. This calls for the big guns."

She looked over at Lisa, biting her lip.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked.

Lisa knew what her answer had to be. She had no idea what Garcia was going to show her, but her curiosity was piqued.

"Yes, I can."

Garcia straightened in her chair, fingers poised above the keyboard.

"Ok, there is a story behind this that I'll explain to you later, but suffice to say that it's not a real picture of him. Not completely, anyway. Only the top half is him. I did some magic with the rest. Brace yourself!"

Garcia hit a pattern on the keys that caused the main screen to go blank, and then a full screen window popped up. It showed a picture of a man standing in front of what looked like a horse corral, the sun beating down on him from high above.

It was Agent Morgan, the super fox. He was wearing tight jeans with chaps over them, boots on his feet, and a cowboy hat in his hand dangling at his side. He had on a leather vest with nothing underneath, his pecs and washboard stomach on display. Sweat glistened on his chest and arms. A lion head tattoo stared back at them from his right shoulder. There was a stirring of dust in the air around him, and his eyes were closed as if he was tired from a long day on the range.

Lisa's mouth dropped open.

"Wha… whoa… girl, how did you get that?!"

Garcia chuckled. She then explained the back story to Lisa, told her how she had stood near the door of the FBI gym with a small camera, waiting for the opportunity to take a picture while Morgan played basketball.

"They were playing Shirts and Skins! It was like a sign from God!" she grinned. "But oh, it was hell trying to get the vest to sit right on him without covering up the scrumptious…"

Both women began giggling so hard, neither heard the door to the office snick open.

* * *

Morgan stopped in front of the surveillance room and reached for the doorknob. He could hear giggling, and smiled at the thought that his Baby Girl was feeling like her usual self. Now, he just needed to pass on Rossi's message, and…

He came to an abrupt stop within the doorway.

"Baby Girl!!"

Garcia gasped, bolting up in her chair as she spun it around to face him. Lisa froze for a second, and then, thinking fast, she scooted up behind Garcia, trying to stealthily reach the keyboard.

Morgan stepped inside and shut the door. He was transfixed by the screens with his face on them; he even recognized some of the occasions as team get-togethers or movie nights with his Goddess. Was this what Garcia used to make herself feel good? His heart started to swell, and then a flicker on the screen to his left caught his eye.

"Stop right there, Officer Bartleby. You're erasing evidence." He smirked.

Garcia was frantic. So far Morgan hadn't noticed the chaps picture, and she really wanted to get it off the screen before he did. She could deal with his reaction to the others, but that one, she had a bad feeling about. She held up her hand in a stop gesture, trying to draw his attention away from the screens and give Lisa time to finish cleaning up the crime scene.

Lisa had ducked her head and ignored Agent Morgan, still click-clacking away, closing windows left and right. Garcia stood up, shifting in front of the main screen.

Morgan shook his head and laughed, eyes twinkling.

"Really, Goddess, I'm ok with this," he said as he walked over to where she stood, "whatever rocks your boat, Baby Girl. I know you can't resist ogling your Hot Stuff."

He couldn't figure out why Garcia had such a pained look on her face. Wasn't she just giggling with her friend? What else was going on? And why was she stretching up on her tip toes, like she was trying to block his view of…

"Garcia!! WHAT is that on the screen?!?"


	2. Ch 2 How Do You Fix This?

**Chapter 2 – How Do you Fix This?**

Garcia grabbed Morgan's arms, holding him in front of her as Lisa finally succeeded in closing all the picture windows, including the main culprit.

"It's not what you think – ok it is, but – Derek, just calm down, sugar." Garcia babbled at him.

Feeling like she had done all she could to help defuse the situation, Lisa stood up.

"Um, I think that I'll go check with my superiors and see if there's anything they need worked on right now. I'll call when I'm on my way back, Agent Garcia."

Garcia gave Lisa a wide-eyed look as Morgan answered for her.

"I think that would be best, Officer Bartleby." His gaze never wavered from Garcia's stricken face, the tone of his voice letting her know that she was in much deeper trouble than she could have imagined.

Lisa crossed the room to the door; turning her head back and mouthing, _I'm sorry,_ to Garcia as she left.

Garcia ran her hands up Morgan's arms toward his shoulders, moving forward to hug him as she started to explain.

"Now, Hot Stuff, you're over-reacting," Garcia began, "it was just…"

Morgan's hands shot up and grabbed her wrists, jerking them down between them as he took a step backwards. Truly, Morgan was a little hurt. He knew he had a player rep, something that he did not discourage as it left him free of entanglements. He knew that his looks were a big part of his appeal to women, and sometimes he felt like he was just a piece of meat in their eyes. For the most part, it didn't bother him as he was glad to avoid the issues of emotional involvement, but… he never thought that his Baby Girl would be like that, and to him that picture only illustrated the problem, no pun intended.

"Overreacting? I don't think so, Garcia." Morgan let go of her hands. "The other pictures, I could understand… I mean, I'm flattered, and…" Morgan shook his head and took a deep breath, "but that…"

"But… but, Angel, it was nothing, I just –" Garcia stammered out.

A vibrating buzz came from his pocket. Morgan released Garcia's wrists and yanked the phone out as she stumbled back into her chair.

"Morgan." He barked. "Be right there."

Morgan shut the phone and looked at Garcia.

"Rossi wants an analysis of the last shooting and a loop of the tape sent to them. I know that you want to talk about this, but right now I've got to get back to the Field Office." Morgan's face remained unsmiling. He leaned into her, grabbing the arms of her chair as he put his face in front of hers, so close their lips almost touched. "But. We WILL talk."

Morgan let go of the chair and exited the office, leaving Garcia speechless in her chair.

* * *

Lisa found Garcia still in her chair a few minutes later, staring at the doorway.

"Agent Garcia? Are you ok?" she asked quietly. "I apologize if I got us in trouble with Agent Morgan."

Garcia shook her head as if in answer, and then took a deep breath.

"It's not your fault, Lisa." Garcia sighed. She rolled her chair back under the desk and brought the cameras back on the screen. "Let's get this analysis done for Agent Rossi."

They worked quietly and quickly, sending off the loop to the Field Office. Garcia's mind was in a whirl. What had just happened? OK, yeah, Morgan had told her not to Photoshop him, but they had been flirting in their usual manner, so she didn't think his reaction was warranted. There had to be something deeper going on, she just had no clue as to what it was. And what was with the Voice of Impending Doom when he left?

* * *

Time passed. The rest of the team were too involved in the case to truly notice any changes, but Rossi did. He was expecting Morgan to be relaxed when he returned from seeing Garcia, but he could tell that was not the case. He wondered what had happened during that short visit to put both of them on their professional highhorses.

Morgan and Garcia acted as if nothing was wrong, behaving in a purely professional manner. Until Morgan was in the ambulance driving like a bat out of hell, of course. For a few minutes, the caring was back in his voice as he spoke to Garcia on the phone. He could hear the worry in her voice, could feel the love she always had for him. And he gave it back to her.

Morgan found himself thinking of Penelope as he drove back to Quantico with Hotch. Thinking about how he had felt during those moments his life was on the line, and how his anger and disappointment had melted away, leaving only the realization of how deep his need for her really was. How deep his love was. And that maybe he HAD over-reacted to the picture. Oh, he still was not pleased, far from it. But, he needed to explain his reaction to her, so that she would understand. Explain that it hurt so much because he wasn't expecting it, because he didn't put walls up with her.

But now his Baby girl was the hurt one, the one who'd thrown the walls up. And he was at a loss as to how to fix the situation.


	3. Ch 3 Advice He Can't Ignore

_AN: My Rossi is influenced by ilovetvalot's Rossi a tiny bit… _

**Chapter 3 – Advice He Can't Ignore**

They had been back at Quantico for a week, and Rossi was standing at the rail overlooking the bullpen, watching the agents finish up paperwork and discuss plans for the weekend. Hotch had already left the office, which Rossi personally believed was one of the signs of the apocalypse. The rest of the team were calling goodbye to Morgan and Garcia as he sat at his desk, watching her pick up case folders from the agents' desks for entry into the system. Garcia smiled and waved them off. Rossi shook his head as he read the expression on Morgan's face; there was hope as Garcia came to his desk, and then there was frustration as the smile fell from her face and she didn't pause to speak to him, just as had been happening all week.

As soon as Garcia had returned upstairs to her bunker, Rossi made a decision to intervene.

"Morgan. Can I see you in my office for a moment?"

Morgan's head jerked up, confused. Rossi had already moved back through his doorway. Morgan made his way up the stairs and into Rossi's office.

"I'm almost done with that consult you referred to me." Morgan said as he sat down in front of Rossi's desk.

"Thanks, but that's not what I wanted to discuss with you." Rossi was standing by his desk, playing with a crystal paperweight as he gathered his thoughts. Morgan waited patiently for him to speak, only looking out into the bullpen once. Rossi seemed to come to a conclusion and put the crystal down, then moved to sit in the chair next to Morgan, instead of behind his desk. Morgan gave him the eyebrow.

"Morgan. Ever since New York, you and Garcia have been… not yourselves. What's going on?" Rossi asked.

"Aw man, I don't know." Morgan groaned and hung his head back, staring at the ceiling. "We're upset with each other, I guess."

"Ok." Rossi said. "I know about Garcia being upset about the ambulance, and you putting yourself in danger. We ALL were upset, and afraid for you. But you saved our lives, and didn't die while doing it. You're here. It's over. Why is this still between you?"

"Something else happened. Before." Morgan hesitated. "I caught Garcia with something, and I kinda went off on her. I closed up after that, but then the bomb happened."

Rossi nodded, leaned back in his chair.

"All right. So you have two issues between you, then. Are they fixable?"

"Hell yeah, if the woman would talk to me! I thought about it the whole drive home. I'm still bothered by what she did, but I'm not all outraged anymore. I didn't even give her a chance to explain, and I should have. But I need to explain too, why I reacted like that. As for the bomb, man… what else could I do? Clock ticking, too many people around, I HAD to move it."

Rossi and Morgan wound up talking for almost another hour. They discussed the bomb and Garcia's reaction to Morgan risking his life. Rossi spoke to him of similar situations that other agents had gone through, and the reactions of their units and families. Eventually, Morgan explained how Garcia had upset him. Rossi surprised him by laughing.

"I'm not laughing at you, Derek." Rossi smiled. "I actually understand why that hurt you. I haven't always been this old, you know. A lot of those rumors about me are true. I was you, back then, the good looking, athletic, tackle-everything-in-sight agent." Rossi eased back in his chair, a smirk flickering briefly on his face before he continued speaking. "And I was popular with the ladies because of it, just like you. But except for my first wife, Isabella, there was no love. I used them just as much as they used me."

He went on to tell Morgan about his married life with her until her death from an aneurysm, and the disasters that his second and third marriages were. Here, Rossi hesitated.

"Morgan, you say you're over it, the thing with the pictures. But you're still irritated that she did it." Rossi smirked. "I may have a suggestion that will give you some satisfaction on that, and then give satisfaction... again."

"What did you have in mind?" Morgan was intrigued by Rossi's tone of voice.

Rossi took a moment to bring one leg up over the other as he relaxed further into his seat, hooking his fingers together in his lap and looking upward as if praying.

"I'm not a man who kisses and tells. The rumors are enough without putting the truth out there. And I think Bella would understand that this is for the sake of love, and only for that will I tell this story." Rossi cleared his throat. "Have you ever tried… spanking?"

Morgan's eyes widened. Then he chuckled. Then he started laughing. "Rossi, man, are you BLUSHING?"

After the laughter died down, Rossi proceeded to tell Morgan about a certain night that started with a silly argument, continued with a locked bathroom door, advanced to caveman tactics up to the bedroom, and progressed to a playful spanking that quickly turned rather wicked. After that night, Bella would impishly test his patience every so often, when she was in a naughty mood. Rossi had turned very red by the end of the story, and Morgan teased him again.

"Hey, I'm talking about love here, not some stranger in the night." Rossi huffed at him.

"I know man, I'm sorry. Thanks for the advice." Morgan sobered up, glancing upward briefly. "Tell Bella it won't go to waste."

They both stood and shook hands, Morgan returning to the bullpen to retrieve his things as he left for the night. Rossi watched him pull his cell phone out as he jogged to the elevator.

Hopefully his words had helped, and on Monday things would be back to normal.


	4. Ch 4 Peace Talks

_AN: un-betaed, and will be lengthened later, but wanted to put something up to show that I haven't abandoned this! I finally got a job after 6 months without, so I'm a little frazzled right now. =)_

**Chapter 4 – Peace Talks**

Morgan jogged over to his desk, glancing upward to see that Garcia's bunker was already dark. He quickly shut down his computer and grabbed his keys, then headed down to the garage. He had his cell phone already in his hand as he approached his truck, and sent Garcia a text message before he started the engine.

'_Baby Girl, we need to talk. Come to my place for lunch tomorrow?'_

He made it all the way home, had changed clothes and taken Clooney out for a romp in the back yard before his cell chirped with a reply.

'_I'm still mad at you.'_

Morgan smiled to himself and shook his head. He entered his reply and held the phone, waiting for her answer.

'_Goddess, I'm sure you are. I'm still upset with you too - I haven't forgotten what started this cold war. We still need to talk'_

Morgan looked down at Clooney and said, "If she keeps fighting this, I'm gonna use you for guilt purposes, you know that right?"

Clooney barked at him and ran back into the house.

Morgan laughed and said, "Chickenshit! She's your Goddess too!"

His cell chirped again.

'_Fine. Noon. I expect Italian. This cold war is in truce until then.'_

Morgan roared laughing. He grinned as he loped back inside. He had work to do before lunch tomorrow.

* * *

Penelope gave herself a pep talk as she drove to Morgan's place the next day. She missed her Hot Stuff so much, she just wanted to get to the making up part so they could cuddle on the couch and watch a movie like they used to. She didn't want her pining to influence the conversation that she knew they had to have.

Parking Esther in the driveway, she slid out, grabbing her purse and the chew toy she had brought for Clooney and smoothing down her flowing orange skirt as she walked to the front door. Before she stepped onto the porch, she looked down at the scarlet peasant blouse and made sure the drawstring was just loose enough to make the keyhole opening land smack in the middle of her cleavage. Garcia was not above using the weapons at her disposal to win this war.

Morgan answered her knock quickly and for a moment her brain went blank as she took in the dark blue jeans clinging to his muscled thighs, and the black Ed Hardy shirt stretched across his chest. His bare feet completed the tasty picture. She finally shook herself out of her reverie as Morgan stepped back to let her in. She stepped inside and walked into the living room where Clooney was awaiting her.

Dropping her purse on the end table, she squatted down to give Clooney the chew toy. Enthusiastically greeting her, Clooney took the toy in his mouth and scrambled back to the mud room.

As Garcia rose from her squatting position, she bumped into Morgan. His hand whipped out and gripped her shoulder to steady her. It was a little disconcerting to be so close to him after a week of avoidance, but she didn't let it get to her. Inwardly firming her resolve and outwardly squaring her shoulders, she greeted him coolly.

"Hello, Morgan. Let the peace talks commence."

She watched him lift his gaze from her chest, where it had been drawn by her posture. Was he smirking at her? Crossing her arms under her breasts, she glared at him and pursed her lips, waiting for his response. What she received was unexpected.

He laughed softly at her, and quickly gave her mouth a kiss.

"You're so cute when you pout, Baby Girl." He moved to her side and took her arm, escorting her speechless form down the hall into the dining room. At the head of the table he pulled her chair out, waiting. "Have a seat, woman. Lunch in 5 minutes."

Penelope sat and stared at his retreating backside as he went into the kitchen. It was all she could do at the moment. WHAT was that? He'd kissed her, he'd kissed her mouth, he'd pressed his lips to hers and stepped away before she could even process what was happening, damn that man!

She could hear the clatter of plates on the counter, and the clink of utensils. As she sat there analyzing what had happened so far, Morgan came back into the dining room with two glasses of wine. He set one in front of her, and the other at the place setting on her right. He smiled at the bemused expression she wore, but said nothing as he returned to the kitchen.

Derrick served them the food he had catered from her favorite Italian restaurant. He encouraged her to dig in as he moved the breadsticks closer. She sat there, brow furrowed. She opened her mouth to speak, and found a fork gently pushed between her lips. She cut her eyes at him as she chewed the pasta he'd given her. She swallowed the morsel, but before she could articulate a word Derek placed two fingers against her lips.

"Penelope, I promise we're going to talk. Just enjoy the meal for now." Derek's fingers left her mouth, but not before stroking her bottom lip.

All she could do was nod.


End file.
